Side Trip
by Chris000
Summary: Travel to different universes has the potential for unforeseen encounters. Major Kevin Sowell of the UNSC, the commanding officer of the Wolfhound Expedition unit, has arrived in just such an encounter. Eager to show he is not a threat, Sowell will have to take another trip to save a unit of pinned down Airmen. This is a Chaos Chronicles Short Story.
1. Chapter 1

Side Trip

3241

* * *

Major Kevin Sowell sat in the relatively plush chair with his wrists in cuffs. He had only recently been taken from his cell several floors below where he was and brought here by men in uniforms. Though their camouflage patterns were unusual to him, they wore rankings similar to Air Force operatives in the UEG. Inverted chevrons indicated that the two escorting him were low-ranking airmen. Sowell had gone without argument or protest, but he did not see the rest of his team in the hallway outside. the major reasoned they were still in their cells.

He was brought to an office that was quaint, most likely that of a high ranking person. Possibly a general. He remembered the rest of the Wolfhounds being surrounded by men as they came through the aperture, and instantly they had surrendered, not wanting to be a danger to anyone. That was three days ago. Now, Sowell was wondering just what these people had in store for them. These were Humans, no doubt. They looked Human, acted Human, and spoke in English, which was fantastic as it pointed to a way where they could communicate effectively. This universe appeared to diverge little than that of their origin.

Despite everything though, the UEG might not want to come to this particular EUS just yet.

Sowell sat in the chair, and noticed now that there was an American flag behind the desk. This comforted the major further, glancing at the flag on his own shoulder. Perhaps they could communicate even better than they thought. However, several thoughts came through the Marine's mind. Would this be the same United States? Were they in the same part of the world? Were the states themselves different? Hell, was Canada the US and vice versa?

The door behind him opened and a man wearing a slightly blue shirt, dark blue tie, and similarly colored pants walked into the room. He appeared to be in his late fifties to early sixties. On his shoulders were two stars, and on his breast was a silver set of wings. The man carried himself with the expected air of a general with quick pace, and directed eyes; directed at his desk, not Sowell. In one hand was a cup of steaming liquid - Sowell assumed coffee - and in the other, a file folder. Once again, Sowell assumed the file was about him and his Wolfhounds.

The major general took a seat, making himself comfortable and opening the files. He took a pair of glasses from his breast pocket and slipped them on his eyes for a few moments. Sowell noted the blue disks dancing around the wording, and in one instance, Sowell noted the general's mouth moved wordlessly. Then, they snapped to him.

"Do you understand me?" the man asked.

"Yes." Sowell responded quickly and curtly.

"Good. That's going to make things much easier. I have a linguistics expert on standby in case there's a few dialectical differences."

"I'm from the Delta, sir. I think we'll understand each other just fine."

The general cracked a small smile, but then it vanished.

"You claim your name is Kevin Sowell."

"Major Kevin Sowell, sir."

The general nodded. "OK. You claim to also be an American. That patch on your shoulder seems to support that claim, though it looks like you have fifty-two stars in that union."

"Fifty-two states of the Reconstituted Union, sir."

The general seemed to lean forward. "What does that mean?"

As a child, Sowell had learned this in school and he remembered it well.

"In the mid twenty first century, the United States split into four unions, where we stayed until the late twenty-sixth century, where we reformed under the reconstituted United States of America. The Fifty-first state is Puerto Rico and the fifty-second is Jefferson."

The general's head seemed to tilt ever so slightly and his mouth dropped a centimeter. He narrowed his eyes, but not out of suspicion, but regarding him in a new light.

"Did that not happen here, sir?" Sowell asked. "I count fifty stars."

"What year do you think it is, Major?"

Sowell thought for a second, thinking of a response, but then realizing that he had been told about this before when he had been assigned to the project. He had been stupid to forget it.

"Time doesn't operate uniformly between my origin point and the destination. If you don't mind me asking sir, what year is it?"

"It's the year 2015." the general said.

The man noted that Sowell looked as if he had been given a bit of a gut punch, and his curiosity rose.

"Now I think I asked you a question, Major. What year do you think it is?"

"3241."

Now it was the general who was surprised. "What?"

"Three thousand, two hundred, forty-one years after the birth of our Lord..."

"I got that." the general said. "Just give me a second here. How is that possible?"

"Didn't you know about this already, sir? Isn't it in that file?"

The general glanced down. "Well, somewhat." he admitted, shrugging. "It mentions you came with a full fire team, all of you spoke English, and approximately half of you had flags that correspond with countries on this planet. The remainder are nationalities not recognized by the United Nations." he flipped it open. "It mentions your weapons loadouts, none of which correspond with any existing manufacturer; in fact the markings on your weapons indicate that they were constructed on Mars. Is that correct?"

It seemed like a ridiculous question, but then Sowell gauged who he was speaking to. "Yes they were built on Mars. Misriah nearly has a damned monopoly on hardware."

"You seem to be taking all of this lightly, Major." the general said.

"The time travel? Well, usually we don't find existing civilizations. We tend to go more into the future than the past, and usually into the distant past."

"You do this regularly?"

"It's my job sir."

Now the general was overwhelmed with curiosity. "What job would that be?"

"0370 - infantry unit commander, commissioned officer."

"That's a US Marine Corps MOS code. But that doesn't answer my question."

Sowell sighed. Technically this was against the rules to divulge information, but this was a countryman... even if he was a millennium displaced.

" My men and I don't operate under the United States military. We are part of an interstellar state that nearly all Human worlds are a part of. Our government is called the Unified Earth Government, but I am an officer in the United Nations Space Command. We are 4th Division, 9th Battalion of the Marine Corps. We call ourselves the Wolfhounds. Our job, general, is to explore different universes."

The room returned to silence. A wall clock behind the general ticked ever so slightly. The general merely blinked and slowly leaned back in his chair. "You explore universes?"

The conversation had suddenly turned casual. Sowell nodded. "Yeah, that's my team's job specifically. They had a bunch more of us down the pipeline, but I command ten teams of Wolfhounds. Ten teams of around four to five men each - that's a fire-team to us. Together we're close to a battalion with our logistical staff keeping tabs on everything while we're on mission.

The general made no motion but blinked slowly and comfortably. He took the glasses off his eyes, bobbed his eyebrows, and took a sip of coffee. The man then cleared his throat and said, "I think you and I are going to understand each other very well, Major." He appeared as if he had forgotten something, and then gave a quick smile. "I apologize, Major. I don't think I've given you the courtesy of an introduction." He extended a hand across the table. "Major General Henry Landry, commanding officer of SGC."

Sowell took the hand and gave it a shake, suddenly a lot more calm. "Thank you, sir. I was able to read your nametag but I didn't think it appropriate to jump into things."

"Understandable."

"Sir, SGC?"

"Stargate Command, son. Welcome to the Cheyenne Mountain Complex."

Now it was Sowell's turn to act surprised. "Stargate?"

"Right, that ring you somehow were able to get through without us knowing."

"That's exactly what we call them. Well, it. We only have the one. Project STARGATE."

Landry shook his head while chuckling. "Well, stranger things have happened in my career. Come on, let's get your men out of lockup. Your weapons are still going to be under lockdown until we can establish that there's no threat from anybody on your team."

"I can assure you, General, we're professionals."

"As are the men under my command, but it's standard procedure. Come on, let's go for a walk. You drink coffee? Do they have coffee in your universe?"

"Yeah. Black."

"Good man." Landry said, getting up and clapping Sowell on the shoulder. He glanced at his watch. "Actually, if we move we may be able to make a return trip."

"Return trip?" Sowell asked getting up and moving behind Landry.

In the outside office, a man was sitting at a table in the hallway, looking at a small notebook. He was fairly athletic in build, had short hair, and large glasses sitting just down his nose. One hand held the notebook open while the other gently held a pencil. His mouth moved as he sounded out words that Sowell couldn't see. When he heard footsteps, he closed the notebook, set it down on the table and stood up.

"General?" he asked.

"That's alright, Doctor Jackson, we understand each other just fine. Major Sowell and I had a bit of a conversation involving his interesting appearance."

Jackson looked surprised. "Really? He was able to speak to you no problem?"

Landry smiled. "Actually, Major Sowell is from Mississippi."

"Just," Sowell interjected. "Not your Mississippi. Doctor." he said, extending his hand. Jackson raised an eyebrow and shook it.

"Well, I suppose that means I'm no good here." the doctor said. "I was expecting a dialect of the Goa'uld, not the... Deep South."

"Dr. Jackson is our linguistic specialist. Studied as an Egyptologist but now his skills have... broadened out over the last fifteen or so years."

"I'm sorry, did he say _'your'_ Mississippi? Implying he's from another? General, is he a time traveller?"

"No, Doctor." Sowell said, not liking that he wasn't addressed personally. "We're a bit beyond that. I'm from a different existence entirely." He thought for a minute. "Cheyenne mountains. That makes this... Colorado?"

"Correct." Landry nodded.

"Then I'm about eleven to twelve hundred miles off course from where I was supposed to end up."

"I don't understand." Jackson said.

"Major Sowell can fill you in as we walk. Come on, SG-2's scheduled to arrive in fifteen."

As they walked, Sowell stretched one of his arms, releasing tension he didn't even know was there. "I shouldn't really be talking about this."

"I shouldn't have told you about SGC. Even though the System Lords aren't top of the totem pole any more you never know when you can expect a Goa'uld spy."

"Sure." Sowell said, unsure of just what the hell they were talking about. "Whenever my team goes through, we typically tend to end up in the same spatial coordinates more or less on whatever planet's on the other side. Rift somehow seems to stay instanced on that planet. I guess what happened was that there's a gate on the other side like... what my team came through, so I guess we latched on."

"Where were you supposed to end up?"

"Somewhere near... Texas or Louisiana."

"So it's a mirror Earth?"

"You have no idea." Sowell said. "A mirror of our mirror, two degrees into the future."

"You're right, I have no idea." Jackson said.

"We're only here to get sensor data, sniff out how this universe's physics work. Look, I may have a pair of tags, but I work for scientists. They know all the little things like atmospheric composition, elements, you know."

"I'm not the guy to talk to about that." Jackson admitted.

The hallway was cramped and covered with hatches. It reminded Sowell of his service back on the _Blind Monk_. The bullseye markings on supports every now and again reminded him of the destroyer's cramped corridors. He felt comfortable here, even though this was clearly a different time and place.

Landry led Sowell through hatches, down elevators, and past guards. They gripped their weapons tightly. They didn't trust him even though he had an American flag sewed on his uniform T-shirt. Sowell wondered just how much people below the top were told. He knew there had to have been rumors of things though.

Eventually they came to one final doorway. Landry turned back to Sowell and said, "I'm going to ask you not to touch anything you see on this end, major."

"You've got it, sir." Sowell said.

Landry opened the door, revealing a control center staffed by men and women in woodland camouflage. Several had headsets on and were constantly monitoring computer screens. Sowell noted with some display that they were all apparently members of the Air Force, if their inverted chevrons were any indication. Landry singled out one of them.

"Chief?" he asked, "Status on DHD signal integrity?"

The man, who was shaved nearly bald and had a pair of glasses on, glanced at the three screens in front of him. "SG-2 is ready to come home. We're just awaiting the final signal from P4X-990."

Sowell's attention then went to the window, or more accurately what was beyond it. In the room beyond the control center was the object he and his men had come through. He hadn't gotten an opportunity to see it in detail. It was a ring, studded with markings all over it, impossibly ancient looking but obviously technological. He leaned forward slightly, supporting himself on a desk surface.

"That's it?" he asked.

"That's it." Landry said, "That's what you came through. That's what keeps us in a job."

Sowell analyzed it, using his sharp eyes to take in the small markings all over the ring. Each was a picture or a constellation of some sort. He thought he recognized maybe Orion on it, but not much more. There was something romantic about the ring that he just couldn't pin down.

"That's amazing. US Air Force made this?"

"What?" Jackson said, as if he was taken aback. "No. No, there's no way we could have put this together. This is Ancient technology."

"Doctor Jackson was actually part of the first team to head through the stargate; that was a bit before my time." Landry said.

"Yeah, the initial gate was excavated in Egypt. Not that though, that one's actually the, uh, second gate that SGC recovered from Antarctica."

Sowell asked, "So who made them then?"

"That's kind of a long story." Jackson replied.

"Offworld activation." The Chief Master Sergeant called out. "SG-2's attempting to dial back."

The ring beyond began to hum, and the Marine watched as it started to spin. The symbols wheeled around the large structure like an ancient telephone, stopping at symbols around the rim.

"General, how do you know it's your guys coming back from the other side?"

Landry spoke immediately. "We tend to have these sort of things worked out before hand."

"What, like a secret password?" the Major smirked.

"Actually yes." Jackson responded.

The ring continued to spin, stopping at six more constellations. On the seventh, something different happened. A blast of energy came from the ring. Sowell thought it was an explosion at first as what looked like a geyser of light and power exploded towards him, only to be pulled back into the gate, leaving a shimmering glow of what could have been the surface of a crystal-clear pool.

"Wormhole integrity established." the Chief noted, reading off several statistics on his monitors. "I've got remote codes coming through, General. Just waiting on SG-2."

There was silence for a few moments. Landry stood with one hand behind his back, one holding his coffee cup. Sowell was still captivated by the glowing pool of light. It looked nothing like this when his boys went through. When his world bridged an EUS, one could always see just what was on the other side. It was how most of their 'expeditions' were made.

This however, was different. There was a bit of mystery surrounding it. He liked it, but wasn't sure how to tactically approach this.

"Still waiting on SG-2." The Chief said.

Landry's jaw began to shift. "Try to send a transmission through the wormhole. Simple status update - the prebaked stuff."

"Yes sir." the man said, tapping a few controls. "Message away, awaiting response."

Sowell too was beginning to feel a bit of unease. Something was wrong. He tried to break the tension with the computer operator, who seemed to be the head technician here.

"So, Chief Master Sergeant."

"You can just call me Chief, sir. Chief Harriman."

"Sorry, Chief. I'm just used to calling out full rating. It's a Marine thing."

"No offense sir, I'm not sure if General Landry has cleared us to speak with you."

"It's OK, Walter." Landry said with a nod of his head. "He's one of us. Sort of."

"How long have you been doing this for?"

"Nearly since the beginning." Harriman said, never taking his eyes off the readouts. Indeed he was an incredible multi-tasker. "I was brought onto the staff just after General West originally had the first Abydos expedition back in 1996. I came in one year later and was here until '09. I transferred to the Pentagon after that."

"But you came back?"

"This is my job, sir." Harriman said with no small concealed point of pride. "It's what I do best."

"What's the matter, didn't fit in up in DC?"

"They didn't appreciate the finer points of our work." Harriman said.

"What the hell's going on over there?" Landry said, now with a gravelly tone in his voice. "You get a response yet, Chief?"

"Negative, General. Frequencies are still clean. SG-2 is not responding."

"Get SG-3 ready for an emergency crossing."

"Yessir." Harriman said.

Suddenly, Sowell said, "Wait a second, sir."

Landry made eye contact. "Major?"

Sowell bit his lip before he said, "Send me over, sir."

"Excuse me?"

"Send me over and I'll bring your people back."

"Out of the question." Landry said. "This is a US Air Force operation."

"I'm not exactly a civilian, sir."

Landry took a step forward. "You're still technically under arrest, you know that? I'm not going to let someone we haven't fully cleared just step on through."

"I won't be going alone though." Sowell said, turning to Jackson. "Fancy a walk, doctor?"

Jackson looked a bit surprised.

"Look." Sowell said. "I know from experience it'll take at least five minutes to get your next team all geared up and ready to move. If shit's hitting the fan on the other side of that thing, you want somebody there now. I do this just as much for a living as you guys do. If Doctor Jackson was part of the original team and by your admission he's done this more than once, I think we're both suitable enough to verify that your team is combat mobile or not."

Landry looked at Jackson. "Doctor?"

Jackson looked at Sowell. The Major expected him to be upset for dragging him into it, but he gave a slight huff and said, "SG-3 will take time to get up here. Not like SG-1 hasn't done its fair share of rescues."

"I know you have no reason to trust me." Sowell said, "Let me do it. I was an ODST for fifteen years dropping out of starship into a dozen kinds of hell. This? I can do this."

"Go." Landry decided. "Someone get them weapons. Doctor Jackson will be in command. Major, follow the markings to get to the main floor."

"Thank you, sir. I'll bring your people back." He saluted before turning and leaving.

Jackson was about to follow before Landry said, "Daniel?"

The archaeologist turned to look back at the general.

"If he so much as twitches the wrong way..."

"I'll deal with it." he nodded. "Though if he wanted to do something, he would have done it in your office, sir."

"Noted. Keep an eye on him."


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

* * *

Sowell had been handed a rifle by an airman near the entrance to the main gate. He flipped the gun over in his hand, careful to keep his index finger off the trigger. It was a long thing with a carrying handle on the top, and a wedge-shaped front sight. He briefly checked the chamber and got a few more magazines for the gun, placing them in his side pockets. He clicked the safety on and looked for Jackson. The doctor was behind him though now he had a handgun in a holster.

"Ever use one of those before?" he asked Sowell. "This is an M16A4 rifle. Standard USAF configuration for SGC units. Thirty round magazine, fires semi and burst."

"A gun's a gun."

Jackson loaded his handgun, a blocky looking pistol which could have been made from plastic given the sheen. He said, "When you go through, make sure to exhale. You might feel a bit sick on the other side, but keep going."

"Sounds just like crossover. Don't worry, doc, I know the drill."

"I'll go first; follow my lead."

"This could be a trap, you know." the major said.

"Then why did you want to go?"

"Best way to get trust is a suicide mission."

"Right." Jackson said. "Just hope it doesn't end in my suicide, you know."

"You want me to go first?" Sowell offered.

"No, Landry's orders." he nodded to the observation booth. Landry watched them a moment before leaning in to a microphone.

" _Get moving_." was all the general said.

"Wait ten seconds then follow me in. You pretty much come out the same way you go in."

"What's that mean?"

"Some people are a little jumpy going through their first time. Kind of sucks, but you're still you. Remember, ten seconds then come on through."

Jackson nodded at the observation booth then walked right through the portal, disappearing from view. Sowell counted down the seconds and did a final check on his weapon. He stood in front of the glowing portal and wondered just what would be on the other side. He took a deep breath through his nose and blew it out through his mouth, blinked once, then ran straight through, the feeling of the event horizon like jumping into a cold pool.

He was then nearly blinded by light from two suns on the horizon. His skin tingled as if he emerged from a long shower completely dry. A subtle mist came from his exposed skin, but at once he was mobile, barely aware that he had just crossed an unknown number of lightyears or galaxies or who knows how far. The first thing he noticed was not the sand, nor the massive chunks of foliage suspended in the air, but gunfire.

Sowell ran down the steps leading from his arrival point and took cover near what looked like a carved stone pillar with unknown writing on it. He pressed himself against it and clicked the safety off his rifle. Opposite to him was Daniel Jackson, handgun out and clasped in both hands.

"Where are your guys? Shouldn't they be here?"

"Don't know." Jackson said. Looks like they moved back. He plucked a radio from his belt and said into it, "SG-2, do you read?"

Within the gunfire, the radio crackled, " _SG-2 reads, who's on this frequency_?"

"Jackson, SG-1."

" _Jesus, you bring the whole team_?"

"Not exactly. You need assistance?"

" _Yeah. Locals aren't happy with us_."

"What did you do, Ferretti?"

" _Can we talk about this later? Right now I need someone to pull us out of this!_ "

"Casualties?"

" _Negative. We're just pinned down_."

Sowell leaned around cover and brought his rifle up, shouldering it and glancing through the small sight. He carefully scanned the horizon and was able to make out where a set of men were hunkered down against an outcropping maybe a few hundred meters away. He tried to find the opposing force but failed to do so.

"Can I see your radio?" he asked Jackson. The doctor passed it to Sowell, who pressed the transmit button. "This is Major Kevin Sowell, UNSC Marine Corps. We're here to assist."

" _Who the hell are you_?"

"You're Ferretti?"

" _Colonel Ferretti! Who did you say you worked for?_ "

"You're under fire but from where?"

" _Northeast_." Ferretti said. " _Jumped us as we were pulled away. See the trees there?_ "

Sowell looked for the trees, two tall amber-leaved things growing out of the sand, leaves like rings making the entire plant look like a mushroom cloud. He could barely see movement.

"Colonel, can you keep them suppressed?"

" _We're the ones being suppressed. There's two hundred and fifty meters of open ground. We're at a standstill._ "

"Stand by." Sowell said, handing the radio back to Jackson. "Come on. Keep to the dunes."

"Are you going to flank them?"

"Want to come along?"

"I wasn't expecting to be shot at today, but I suppose we could make it exciting."

"I don't think these guys know we came through." the Marine said, beginning to move low to the ground, rifle at half-height. "What can you tell me about these guys, Jackson?"

"Ever since the fall of the System Lords they haven't really been a major problem, but every now and again you run across a set of Jaffa pledged to a minor Goa'uld who wants to get the band back together. Some are more dangerous than others."

"These guys? What's a Jaffa exactly?"

"Genetically enhanced warriors that used to work for the Goa'uld. They carry younger members of the species in pouches. Very strong, very fast, and they can get very old too. I work with one actually."

"Aliens. Cool. I can shoot aliens." Sowell said. He had made a career of it after all.

"So do they work on their own or do they have armies?"

"I don't know, really. One of the new players in the game is a guy named Tohep. Maybe these are his boys. That's one of the reasons SG-2 came here in the first place."

The men slowly edged closer to the mushroom cloud trees. Sowell quickly realized it was a standoff between SG-2 and these Jaffa guys. There was too much open ground for one group to move on the other. Occasionally the pop of gunfire or a zap of what looked like plasma fire crossed the open desert. Sowell intended to change those odds.

Fifty meters away from the tree, they were spotted. It was more by chance than anything else. A round fired by one of SG-2's members hit off the tree, spitting bark and dust into the eyes of one of these soldiers. Sowell saw the target jerk back and cover his eyes as he fell back by a few feet. When he opened them, the hostile was looking right at the two would-be ambushers. He shouted to his comrades who looked their way.

Sowell saw for the first time clearly what he had in his sights. It was a Human being. Not humanoid, but someone that looked just like him. He was sure of it. It was tall, armed with unfamiliar weapons, but the form was unmistakable. He was ready to gun down another man. He wasn't prepared for it.

"That's not good." Jackson groaned.

"Hit the deck!" Sowell roared, throwing himself onto the ground and opening up. The rifle barked as he sent semi-automatic fire towards the trees.

"Ferretti, suppress!" Jackson called into the radio, simultaneously leveling the handgun and firing himself. The twin barks overlapped one another as the opposing Humans backed off. It was only now that Sowell realized that they were armed with staff-like weapons and were armored with a strange angular metal plate, dark grey but gold in some places. He was close enough to hear them cry in a language he didn't understand. His fire brought down one of them, the blood splattering across the bark of the tree. The others began to return fire too, lances of plasma sizzling over Sowell's head.

Jackson lined up a shot, planting a bullet dead center on one of his attackers. The warrior seized up and pitched forward, weapon sputtering once.

" _We're moving up!_ " Ferretti called. " _Gonna pincer them in!_ "

Sowell's magazine ran dry. He let it drop, pulled another from his side pocket and inserted it. He slapped the bolt release and took aim again. His enemies were getting more accurate.

"We're not going to last here. Let's back off."

"We move too far and they're going to turn back to SG-2!" Jackson said.

"Not if their MG does his job!"

As if on cue, a steady stream of automatic weapons fire crossed the gap, slapping into the area surrounding the tree. The attackers scrambled for cover as the unexpected suppressing fire forced them to hunker down. Sowell saw three more men crossing the sandy expanse, dusty tan uniforms barely visible against the white sand. He assumed the one in the lead was Colonel Feretti.

"OK, let's move back a bit." Sowell said. "Just a little."

Both the Marine and Jackson slowly made their way into a crouch and started to back down the hill. What Sowell was counting on was lack of unit cohesion at this point. He and Jackson had already killed two of their number. He hoped they would be mad enough to want to kill the offending party.

It worked. A small gap began to form between the attackers who were actively shooting at Sowell and Jackson and the group too scared to move from cover around the tree, still frozen by the MG on the opposite hill. What both groups failed to realize was that in the blindness of combat, the other Air Force team was arriving to finish the engagement.

It only took three minutes. Sowell killed two more men while Jackson managed to take down another, leaving the force tailing the new arrivals down to two, and the ones still suppressed at three. Everyone wheeled around at the sound of weapons fire as Ferretti rounded the tree and cut down the warriors attempting to hide in cover. In the confusion, Sowell and Jackson eliminated their group of warriors while their backs were turned.

The echoes of combat passed over the sands of this world, and there was silence except for the wind, and the rustling of desert leaves.

"Clear!" Sowell called. "All clear!"

"Clear!" Someone shouted from the tree. "Trees clear!"

"Nice work, doc." Sowell said, clapping Jackson's arm.

"Not my first rodeo." the archeologist said with a slight smile as he checked his pistol magazine. "I've got my own resume. Nice work. First engagement with Jaffa takes some by surprise."

"Any geek who can fight is alright with me." the major said, jogging to meet the soldiers. He found Ferretti, the man with a black eagle on his uniform. "Colonel?"

Ferretti looked at him, an impressively built man despite his age.

"Major Kevin Sowell." He nodded, not wanting to salute in a combat zone.

"Colonel Louis Ferretti. You're not SGC." Ferretti said. "The hell's that uniform?"

"It's a long story, sir, but General Landry sent me to get you."

"Hey, shouldn't that be another SG team's job?" Another airman, a Technical Sergeant asked.

"Yeah but I was on hand. I thought you guys were in danger so Landry send me and Dr. Jackson to check up on you."

"I was making sure things were cool with him really." Jackson said. "Hey Lou. How's PX4-990?"

"Well, better than MX4-471. I like the sand here. Reminds me of Tampa. You know, if Tampa had flying forests." he trudged down the hill rifle gingery held. "So who are you with?" he pointed at Sowell.

"Marine Corps."

"Landry's going to explain this one." Jackson said. "He's from another world."

"Oh." Ferretti said. "Cool. They got beer there?"

"Yeah."

"Then it's good enough for me. Yeah, Jaffa used a few of the natives to get us away from the gate. Drew us in with a scared hostage routine. We were ready to go back but our orders were to assist. The natives of P4X-990 have a strict sense of personal honor. We wanted to get on their good side. Guess the Jaffa took advantage of that."

"Did they belong to Tohep though?" Jackson asked intently. "We wanted to be sure; we've had sightings on at least three different worlds of units pledging to him."

They had made their way back towards the gate as they walked. Sowell listened to their conversation but continued to take the world in, amazed that this sort of travel was more or less instantaneous. He wondered if this was how all races travelled in this universe. Were starships a thing at all? They would have to be, who placed the gates here in the first place? Were the like the Forerunners? Hell, were they actually Forerunners? Sowell had a lot to learn about this place. He wondered if it was possible to get a liaison going between their two EUSs.

"Long story short, yes, they're his guys; no we're not sure he's making a bid for a new System Lord position. How's Jack by the way?"

"Good. He's fishing."

"Of course he is. Who's the poor bastard he suckered in to going with him this time?"

The machine gunner caught up with them, lugging his heavy weapon on a sling. Within moments, six men had met up at the gate.

"Get the DHD running again, Corswain."

"Sir." the technical sergeant said, moving to a device that Sowell hadn't seen before.

"Thanks for helping out." Ferretti nodded. "Don't know who the hell you are, what unit you're attached to, but you saved my ass. Thanks for helping Jackson."

"That's what I do." The archaeologist shrugged. "Come on; Landry's laying an egg as is while we're over here."

The tech sergeant stood in front of a dial that Sowell barely noticed the first time around. The noncom studied something in his hand and slowly began to punch in symbols all over the dial. Sowell got close enough to take a look.

"What are you doing?"

"Dialing home." the airman said. Though he wore a pair of sunglasses, his tone and wrinkling around the nose said amusement. "What's the matter, never gone through one of these before?"

"No. They don't have them where I'm from."

"How was your first trip?"

"Shit."

The man grinned. "Yup. That sounds about right."

A moment later, the gate began to spin, locking at the constellation symbols that Sowell noticed when he left. The gate lit up, and he flinched as the bubble of energy blasted from the aperture towards them. He jumped back ever so slightly while Ferretti and his men chuckled.

"Goddamn man, what do they do where you're from?"

"Slipspace. Holes in spacetime."

"Doesn't sound as fun." Ferretti said. "Check area one more time. Doctor, if you want to head back, now's your chance."

"Can't. You know…" Jackson said, raising a hand towards Sowell. "Major, you're going to need to go first."

"Well, not unless you guys are going first. You're the reason I came to this rock. I'm not going to look like a jackass if you guys don't show up again."

"Area clear!" Corswain called out. "Negative contacts, sir!"

"SG-2, let's go home." Ferretti nodded, making his way towards the portal.

One by one, the unit strode through the gleaming surface of the stargate. Sowell watched, weapon pointed downrange, making sure that each and every one made it through. When the last one, the machine gunner, walked through and disappeared with a slick and slimy sound, he looked at Jackson.

"See you back there."

"Thanks for lending a hand."

"Still think I'm one of those…" he struggled to find the words.

"A friend of mind was tricked by a someone who went through to Abydos. That was the first trip. It wasn't his fault you know, but we need to be sure, especially if someone's making a play for System Lord."

"I understand." Sowell said. "Hey Jackson."

The doctor looked away from the gate.

"Were you going to shoot me if things turned out differently?"

The archaeologist didn't answer, instead placing his handgun back in his holster. "After you."

Without resentment, Sowell clicked the safety on and walked through the gate.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

* * *

Jittering as he stepped out, he blinked, the lights being far dimmer than the twin stars of the planet behind him. SG-2 was gathered at the foot of the ramp speaking to each other. A second squad of airmen pointed their weapons up at him.

"Major Sowell." he heard Landry speak through the microphone. "Where's Doctor Jackson?"

"Right behind me." He said. Almost on cue, the final figure crossed through the event horizon. Daniel Jackson nodded at Landry.

Power was cut to the gate, which fizzled out.

"Power down complete." Harriman said over the intercom. "All personnel stand down."

The major could only stare at the ring behind him – how similar it was to the one he had crossed only a few days before. Hell, how long had he been gone? Did time mean something different here?

"Major Sowell?" Landry asked again.

"Yes, sir?"

"Got a little surprise for you."

Through the door came the rest of his men. Five of his boys – Jenkins, Yosemite, Svensen, Uller, and Zagoc; all of them dressed in their full uniforms.

"They treat you well?"

"Four stars." Yosemite said. "Room service sucks."

A few cracked smiles as General Landry made his way into the room. "Colonel."

"Recovery was a bit slower than expected." Ferretti said. "Got tied up at the end. These fine gentlemen," he waved to Sowell and Jackson. "gave us a hand."

"Primary objectives?"

The colonel went straight-faced. "Accomplished. Made contact with the locals, made our intentions known. Yeah, we're looking at a resurgence of pledged Jaffa. I don't know their symbol."

"Tohep." Jackson said. "General, SG-2 was the first to encounter an organized resistance of these guys. We need to go back and question the locals further on this."

"Agreed." Landry said. "We'll get SG-1 on that as soon as possible, but not today. SG-14 and SG-15 are penned in for expeditions. Teal'c should be thrilled about it."

Jackson shrugged. "Oh thrilled. I'm sure he's going to love this more than fishing."

"Ferretti, your team's off duty."

"Sir." The colonel nodded.

"Dismissed." Landry said. SG-2 and the guards disappeared.

"Hey, I owe you a beer." Ferretti said to Sowell, and then disappeared, leaving only Landry, Jackson, and the Wolfhounds.

"So are we free to go?" Sowell asked.

"Lieutenant Yosemite has informed me that your missions have schedules just as SGC expeditions?"

"Yeah. They cut us loose for a few days to see what's what in an EUS."

"EUS?" Jackson asked.

"It's what we call alternate universes. Extrauniversal Spaces. This is EUS-1712."

Jackson's eyebrow raised. "This was more Sam's area, but… how many universes have you found exactly?"

"Ongoing." Sowell said. "I lost count over 2000." He checked his watch. "Unless our times work different, I think that right about now actually they should be starting to listen for progress report. Svensen."

The tall bulky Sergeant Major reached into his pack and pulled out a device that was impossible to identify to the untrained eye. Svensen in particular was expert at using it. His thick finger slid around the screen, and within moments, it began to chirp once every five seconds."

"What's it doing?" Landry asked, curious and concerned.

"A very bright kid once told me that it's kind of like a whistle."

"OK."

"Every world sort of has a signature. We're not from your world. We play by different rules. So, deep down, deep down…"

"Deep in our balls." Jenkins said.

"Yeah what that asshole said." Sowell said before clearing his throat. "We all have different signatures. Somehow you can tell which is which. This little whistle makes a louder version of that signature."

"So they can pick you out of the white noise." Jackson said.

"Bingo." Sowell said, turning towards the gate. "So, they're going to take a few minutes matching up, making sure there are no duplicates, yada, yada, yada; they're going to make calculations, a few AI are going to take over the operation because the Humans are too slow; I guarantee someone is getting drunk at this very moment… and if there is a kind and gracious God…"

Fifteen seconds later, an aperture instantly appeared where the Stargate did. It was a sound of tearing paper as loud as a gunshot. Air popped and the room lit up.

"Offworld…" Harriman began, but trailed off. "General, we couldn't see it coming."

"Relax, Walter." Landry said.

"Now comes the cool part. Watch this." Sowell said grinning.

The portal began to wobble. The air around it seemed to ripple. Strange shapes and alien geometries were briefly visible that baffled the mind and confounded the senses. Ghost images flashed in front of everyone's eyes, and for a moment, shapes not unlike those of men seemed to appear and disappear within the portal – probabilities and worlds of themselves. Even now Kevin Sowell wondered if another version of him was coming to a world exactly like this one, only separated by incredibly small differences. He was here now.

"General, radiation levels are rising around the stargate."

"It's fine." Sowell said. "It's confined around the portal."

Landry nodded to the control booth.

"Kind of like how your stargates work. Except this one goes to other universes."

"Kind of, kind of not." Jackson breathed.

"That should be the motto of the project." Yosemite said.

There was another loud pop, and suddenly the ripples were gone.

"Check, check." Svensen said, tapping his radio headset. "1-1 radio check, Ops verify positive handshake."

There was silence for a few moments. Crackling of an open channel sounded in the room. Sowell opened a channel for the benefit of everyone else. The only sound was that of the interdimensional portal emitting what could have been a slight wind. This surprised Jackson as he thought a portal tearing into the fabric of space itself… no, Existence, would be a bit louder.

"1-1, Ops. Confirm positive handshake." A voice over the radio said. "Confirm mission code."

Sowell spoke, "Ops, 1-Actual. Mission code Bravo-Tango-Oscar-Oscar-4-4-1-7, please confirm."

"Confirmed. Good to hear you boys." The voice said.

"Well look at that." Landry said.

"1-Actual, describe status of Team 1."

"Team 1 reports all nominal." Sowell reported. "We made a few friends along the way."

"Say again, 1-Actual, 'friends'? We were under the impression 1712 was sterile."

"Well, we were wrong; oh man, there's a whole bunch going on here. Stand by."

Sowell took the radio and held it towards Landry. "Want to make First Contact, sir? Beginning of a beautiful friendship?"

Landry's eyebrows bobbed. "Protocol?"

"Just act natural sir. Just a heads up though: this is going to get weird."

"Weird?"

"Well, we work with these other guys… They've… got a bit more hair than we do."

Jackson said, "What?"

Landry took the radio, thinking about what he was going to say.

The major started. "Oh wait, I just thought of something. Doctor, how good are you with alien languages?"

Jackson shrugged. "I studied Egyptology when I was studying for my doctorate. I've gotten kind of good since then." He smiled.

Sowell nodded. "I think we have a problem you might be able to help us with. We're going to need everyone we can get on this one."

Landry laughed. He'd heard of strange stories like this before; he learned a lot at the SGC, but this was a first. "Hell, why not." He cracked a smile, hit the transmitter, and said, "This is Major General Henry Landry, United States Air Force. How's life on the other side?"


End file.
